


Food for the eyes

by BusyBird



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BusyBird/pseuds/BusyBird
Summary: “Is it bad?” Sanji asks, rapping his foot on the floor.For a moment, Luffy thinks he is referring to his fingers, where the captain is still staring at, but then, he realizes he is talking about the food.Eagerly, Luffy shakes his head, “your food is the best! You know it!”
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: Commissions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185653
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Food for the eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transaizen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transaizen/gifts).



At first, it starts with little, quick glances. 

Whenever the cook is around, every now and then, Luffy turns his head to observe Sanji, stretching out his neck just enough to get a better look. He even goes out of his way, delaying his training and fun time, allowing his meal to get cold as he tilts his head to stare at the back of Sanji’s neck. However, when he turns to glare at his captain who has yet to eat his breakfast, Luffy looks back at his omelet.

He is the only one left in the gally, with the other.

Suddenly, Sanji picks up the box of cigarettes laying on the counter and slips his finger in to grab one – Sanji has long, slender fingers, Luffy notices, gazing at him from under his lashes. His skin is smooth, his nails are tidy – yes, his hands look very neat.

“Is it bad?” Sanji asks, rapping his foot on the floor.

For a moment, Luffy thinks he is referring to his fingers, where the captain is still staring at, but then, he realizes he is talking about the food. 

Eagerly, Luffy shakes his head, “your food is the best! You know it!”

At first, Sanji frowns, holding his cigarette with his lips as he reaches for the lighter in his pocket, “then why aren’t you eating it?” 

After lighting up his cigarette, Sanji breathes in, cheeks hollowing, and Luffy is still staring. He observes, cautiously, as the tip of the cig burns, and while it does, Sanji closes his eyes, relaxing his forehead as if the nicotine is providing him some kind of bliss. Then, the cook’s cheeks are swollen, and first, he lets out part of the smoke from his nostrils. Afterward, opening his eyes, he folds his free hand in the pocket of his trousers, and he exhales, releasing all the smoke, like a dragon.

He looks cool.

He looks nice.

Suddenly, Sanji’s eyes go wide and the ashes fall on the counter, “what did you say?”

Luffy blinks.

Oh.

Has he said it aloud? Judging by the light shade of red suddenly covering the tip of Sanji’s ears, yes, the compliments he’s been thinking of the entire time just slipped from his mouth.

Luffy smiles – if he has said it once, he could say it twice, “you look cool!”

Sanji chuckles, whether accepting the compliment or as a result of embarrassment, Luffy is not sure, but, eventually, the blonde closes his eyes, again, allowing the blush on his ears to deepen, “cool like Zoro?”

At that, the captain grimaces, and finally, oh, finally, he starts eating, “not like that!”

His breakfast is delicious, Luffy thinks, but it’s obvious, after all, it’s Sanji’s doing!

The cook opens his eyes, even though so slightly that it’s almost imperceptible, “then, what do you mean?” And he gets back to smoke, chest lifting as he sucks in. 

Then, he blows off.

“Why are you always looking at Nami and Robin?” Luffy wonders, aloud, chewing at his food as he hopes that Sanji would understand without needing a proper explanation. Luffy has never been good at those kinds of speeches: he is made for battle not for … whatever is forcing his eyes back to Sanji, again and again.

It’s like a magnet.

“Because they’re like a painting,” Sanji explains, with a sly smile forming on his face, “they’re beautiful creatures. Everything about them is elegant and mesmerizing,” he resumes, picking the cigarette with his thumb and index finger.

“Then, that,” Luffy confirms, stretching his mouth enough to fit what’s left of his meal, “same for me.”

Sanji frowns, at first.

Then, he flushes furiously, understanding and his gaze shy away, though, he doesn’t say anything back. He doesn’t kick him out as he always does when Zoro and Brook make a weird joke; he doesn’t ask him whether he is serious or is just playing with him.

Instead, he stays there, smoking like a chimney, and Luffy chuckles at it – he looks like a dragon, he thinks, but there is also another word lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“What?” Sanji asks, still refusing to look at him – even though Luffy knows he could just order him to face him, as he is the captain and you can’t refuse anything to your captain, he doesn’t, and instead stands up, ready to leave. 

“You’re cute,” and he considers himself lucky when Sanji doesn’t start throwing knives at him when he screams out of embarrassment, letting the cig drop from his hand as he covers his face with it.

After that morning, Luffy decides to be more cautious and keeps studying Sanji from afar. He knows Sanji would never deny something as simple as that – he is sure that, if he wanted, Sanji would allow him to stay in the galley watching him the entire time.

But both of them have other things to take care of.

Still, Luffy focuses on him, when everyone else is not looking – when nobody can catch him.

Sanji has a nice face, Luffy decides, one day, studying the way the cook is smiling while serving ice-cream to the ladies of the crew. That smile, specifically, is good – it makes him look so much brighter and happier. Though, this is not the only useful information Luffy finds out about during his daily observation.

Whenever Sanji is lost in thoughts, he pouts, pushing his bottom lip out as he scratches his jaw. It happens only on a few occasions, Luffy notices, and every time, food and cooking are involved. And Luffy likes that expression too, which is why he finds himself following Sanji when they dock to stock up.

Even when he locks himself in the kitchen to cook, Luffy peeks from the tiny porthole that allows him to study him more. Even now, the cook is scowling as he organizes all the ingredients he needs; a few moments later, it seems he has decided what he wants to prepare, because he squeezes his hands together, pressing both index fingers against his lips while those are curving upwards.

His happiness is contagious.

Happiness looks good on Sanji.

Luffy smiles too.

He thinks Sanji is very, very cute, but he is not only that, Luffy knows it very well.

Sanji is cute, but he is fierce and scary, too, and it’s not a secret either. Everything you need to do to find out about it, it’s placing the cook on the battlefield.

He fights very passionately. He swings his legs left, right, almost dancing between the enemies – his kicks are like needles and burns of that same passion that fuels him in the kitchen, in his realm. Looking at it this way, Luffy finds himself admiring him, more and more. 

How can someone be so elegant, so gentle, and yet so brave and savage? Luffy doesn’t know and, day after day, he allows that weird attraction to pull him in until his prolonged gazes are no longer enough.

It’s like a need, a requirement for him to sedate his curiosity: Luffy wants to discover what’s like to touch him, to bury his face into his shirt to fill his lungs with Sanji’s scent. 

That is, he wants to have him closer.

Even a single brush would be enough.

Somehow, it happens, one day, out of nowhere. 

Accidentally, Sanji hurts his hand with hot water and leans against the sink as the tea kettle clashes on the floor. As soon as the cook screeches in pain, hissing under his breath, Luffy bolts from his seat to be by his side.

“Go, call Chopper!” Luffy yells and Brook storms out right after getting the order because everyone knows how important those hands are for Sanji. Even more important than his own legs…

“Get the ice,” Sanji instructs, once they are alone, holding the injured hand with the good one, shaking and biting at his inner cheek.

Nodding, Luffy parts, but only briefly, and gets what he needs from the refrigerator to come back near Sanji as soon as possible. Almost instinctively, the captain reaches out, offering his palm to allow Sanji to place his over it.

Meanwhile, Sanji grabs a cloth from the counter, using it as an envelope for the ice, and then, he allows Luffy to press it, gently, almost reverently, against his reddened skin, making Sanji whine in pain. 

Luffy stops, “am I hurting you?”

“It’s not your fault,” the other murmurs, keeping his cool temper, and yet, he's gritting his teeth betray him, “just press, harder,” he directs him, putting his other hand at the top of Luffy’s, pushing him to let him know how much pressure is needed.

“You sure? I don’t want to ruin your hands…”

However, Sanji shrugs and sneers, “it’s fine. I’m a cook – this happens many times. A burn like this is nothing.”

Yet, Luffy’s wants to be careful.

His eyes linger a bit too much over their hands, and notices how different they are: Sanji’s are gracious and slender and his fingers are slightly tapered; Luffy’s are tick and bruised, with a few scars decorating it.

“You have nice hands,” Luffy notices, aloud.

Sanji hums in acknowledgment, smiling.

Luffy looks up, and thinks that, maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself to speak his mind, “And you look good when you smile, too.”

The cook huffs, the tip of his nose gets reddish, (it’s a nice color too on him) “it seems, you’ve been looking at me a lot, captain.”

“Is it a bad thing?” Is he going to ask him to stop…?

“At first I thought you wanted more food,” Sanji starts, snorting, making Luffy puffs his checks, “but then you said I was cute and thought you had hit your head or something…”

“Now you’re just mean…”

After a while, Chopper rushes in, squirming and screeching.

During his inspection, Sanji is still resting his injured hand on Luffy’s – the captain is very tempted to squeeze it. However, he does not: he is too afraid of hurting him more.

The next day, Luffy eats his breakfast with Usop, on the stern of the ship, both because it’s a sunny day, and the weather it’s nice, and, secondly, because Chopper is checking up on Sanji again, in the infirmary.

If Sanji is not in the galley, it’s pointless to eat there, Luffy decides.

However, it only needs a few more minutes before Sanji peeps from Chopper’s room, finally.

And Luffy stares: his hand is still covered in bandages.

“Hey, you two,” Sanji calls, “bring the plates back to me. I’ll kick you to kingdom come if you destroy them again.”

Usop scoffs and gazes away; Luffy, on the contrary, is more interested in knowing if the cook is still in pain. So, he decides to use the excuse of bringing back the dishes to ask him, directly.

Opening the door, Sanji is in front of the counter, back against it as he smokes.

“How are you?” Luffy asks, leaving the plates on the table and, quietly, moving a few steps towards the other.

Without replying, Sanji offered him the injured hand, and it is enough for Luffy to get it as an invitation to hold it.

And he does, examining each finger with a foreigner cautiousness as if the cook is made of porcelain and might break if Luffy does not pay attention. Though, when Sanji squeezes Luffy’s as if he can see his captain's fear in his eyes, Luffy squeezes back, gently.

Sanji hums, “you did hit your head, after all,” he jokes, drawing circles with his thumbs on Luffy’s hand, “I never expected you to be so gentle.”

“Mean,” Luffy pouts, but when Sanji chuckles low and warm, he thinks he can forgive him, like always. 

“Chopper wants me to do a few exercises, just to be sure nothing is wrong,” the blonde says after, “do you want to help me?”

Without even thinking about it twice, Luffy nods and helps him twisting his wrist left and right, up and down; he massages the torso, tenderly; he helps him flexing his fingers and so on until they’re done and Sanji needs to start preparing Nami’s and Robin’s special treats.

That day, Luffy gets to eat ice-cream too, a privilege that, until now, was meant for the ladies only.

Luckily, it keeps happening.

It becomes a habit to help Sanji with his exercises and Luffy gets both to observe him more, without hiding, and to eat more. 

It’s perfect.

Even when the bandages are gone and the burn is just a memory, Luffy sneaks in the galley, pestering Sanji with questions about what he is cooking, when will it be ready, and so on. Meanwhile, he slides his hand on the cook’s free one, accidentally, of course.

Whether Sanji notices when they start intertwining their fingers together, Luffy doesn’t know, but it’s good all the same because Sanji is smiling while scolding him about his silly questions, without letting him go while he is trying to cook with one hand.

Luffy is content.

Everything is fine.


End file.
